Thanks, I Hate It

by Kid You Not

/
1.
staring at the ceiling fan. i'm feeling the disconnection. i'm not faking it this time. this isn't in my head. there's something a little more sinister. it's 2am and iím a mess. there's no getting out of this
2.
you know we mean it but we keep it to ourselves. existing as the counter to our own ambition. when we're dead and buried with the secrets we used to hold. we'll sing a silent anthem as the curtain's drawn. we'll waste our lives to keep unwinding. to spite our best intentions. and we've done our time. the punishment doesn't fit the crime. it's all been done before. you know we need it and we're trying to make our mark. because all of our graves eventually go unattended. and for this we suffer. it's a feeling we bring along. we're all just clever lyrics searching for a song. we'll waste our lives to keep unwinding. to spite our best intentions. and we've done our time. the punishment doesn't fit the crime. it's all been done before. we're searching for our song. we'll live as endless verses. searching for a chorus in between. and picking up the melody. and phrasing trying to stay in key. while turning prose to clever lines. but cut short by the last refrain. and waiting for the turnaround. to bring us back to where we've been. are we finally giving in. we're just searching for our song
3.
we lost it all. we let it go. we disassociate from everything we know. we're pessimists. we're cynical. first to fail but last to know. we're all so fucked up but we're scared to let it show. it comes in fits. it starts and stops. a full accounting that wrote us off. burning down from the inside out. we try to medicate ourselves. a simple truth we can't admit. too apathetic to give a shit. gave it up. we all just quit. we're all so fed up with a world so full of shit. we're ill prepared and compromised. too numb to care so we don't try. don't understand it but we know the reasons why. we've been so bitter. pulled so tense and left so anxious. we're fucking pissed. burning down from the inside out. we try to medicate ourselves. a simple truth we can't admit. too apathetic to give a shit. drink it up. breathe it in. and swallow handfuls of all these pills. blacking out. watch it burn. the hardest lessons we never learned. it comes in fits. it starts and stops. a full accounting that wrote us off. we've been so bitter. pulled so tense and left so anxious. we're fucking pissed. a simple truth we won't admit. we never really gave a shit. drink it down. breathe it in. and swallow handfuls of all these pills. blacking out. watch it burn. the hardest lessons we never learned
4.
put me anywhere but here spinning around my head. i'm frozen in time and space and i'm climbing the walls of this fucking place. i can’t make sense of it. i'm not living but i’m not dead. i've got a set of rules, a simple plan, and reasons that i still don’t understand. sometimes i miss these things you know. i’ve got a delicate heart and the scars to prove it. and sometimes i need this pain. just a cynic in search of a point worth proving. well i sleep but i don’t dream or put faith in anything. the questions are all i have and nothing adds up when i’ve done the math. i’m too far gone to make much sense of it. i've got a set of rules, a simple plan, and reasons that i still don’t understand. so why is it in my head. sometimes i miss these things you know. i’ve got a delicate heart and the scars to prove it. and sometimes i need this pain. just a cynic in search of a point worth proving. bad decisions come so easily to me. and it’s always in my head. sometimes i miss these things you know. i’ve got a delicate heart and the scars to prove it. and sometimes i need this pain. just a cynic in search of a point worth proving
5.
count it back and make a list of all our own missteps. and break it down to the base components. sense and structure. we analyze the blueprint lines to find some comfort in ourselves. these scars are all tattoos. designs that we didn't choose. just shape and color, pale and artless. left to mock our innocence. you can bet on this. we're building monuments to be forgotten. these bruises hold in blue and gold. the shame envy. we're compromised. we've cut all ties to any sense of who we'll be in the end. these scars are all tattoos. designs that we didn't choose. just shape and color, pale and artless. left to mock our innocence. these scars are our tattoos. the artistry of our careless youth. so vague and sullen. wasted on our neverending arrogance. the weight of all of this. was never yours to carry. these scars are all tattoos. designs that we didn't choose. just shape and color, pale and artless. left to mock our innocence. these scars are our tattoos. the artistry of our careless youth. so vague and sullen. wasted on our neverending arrogance
6.
Condolences 01:20
i'm getting tired of all the bullshit we tell ourselves. i've got no soul to sell. i don't believe in heaven or hell. we live an endless chain of consequence on an educated guess. such a beautifully brilliant mess. can't have a cause without an effect. as we spend our days and waste away under artificial lights. as the day decays to night. in every moment at the mercy of time. but there's a difference in what it means to live or simply just exist
7.
i feel like i'm dying. and sometimes i wish i was to get it over with. this all feels the same. it's like some repeating pattern of falling down. the perfect catalyst for a plot without a twist. i feel like i'm broken and sometimes i'm sure. so i write these fucking songs to convince myself i can pull this off. but now i'm here. feeling certain that i'll choke like a punchline without the joke. so on and on. indifferent to changing. i'll sing along and spill out my guts as i fall apart. my body was not made to bear the burden of these things. fuck it all. raging and vacant. i'll sing along and blow out my voice as i'm breaking down. my body was not made to bear the burden of these things. it's time that i should deal with this. i'm too stubborn to admit it. so i'll worry about it later. because later sounds much better. but then later becomes never. i know goddamn well it will. ad infinitem until i'm out of time. so on and on. indifferent to changing. i'll sing along and spill out my guts as i fall apart. my body was not made to bear the burden of these things. fuck it all. raging and vacant. i'll sing along and blow out my voice as i'm breaking down. my body was not made to bear the burden of these things. watch me fall apart. (just let it happen)
8.
it can't get much worse but it won't get better. and we've played our parts. so how can this be all we've ever expected from a deal we never accepted. so disregard and disobey. it cuts so deep. but we still try to hold on til we burn out hard. dim the lights. just victims lost to the perfect crime. and we aren't the first but we know better. when we're dead and gone. it might not be so hard to come to accept it. if we just knew when to expect it. we could have the time of our afterlives. it gets harder to second guess. when you don't know what you believe. and you're reaching out for something. because you're scared of being nothing at all. so disregard and disobey. it cuts so deep. but we still try to hold on til we burn out hard. dim the lights. just victims lost to the perfect crime. we don't know what to believe. and we're scared of being nothing at all
9.
we set our eyes on something out of focus. and we lost our place, we’re out of frame. stuck in a moment that we set in motion. so we surrender control. and wait until we’re shallow breathing. out of breath. there’s simply nothing more we can do. sound the alarm. the curtain call. a chorus for the death of us all. a burial shroud of mournful song. a fire burning out of control. a benediction for the hopeless to address our complaints. we bend and break and wait until we’re shallow breathing. out of breath. there’s simply nothing more we can do. sound the alarm. the curtain call. a chorus for the death of us all. a burial shroud of mournful song. a fire burning out of control. stripped of purpose. mediocre. fear is just a means of control. bruised and broken. still not conquered. counting down, we’re set to explode. sound the alarm. the curtain call. a chorus for the death of us all. a burial shroud of mournful song. a fire burning out of control. we're set to explode
10.
we made plans to be invincible. but now we're moving on and on and on and on. we were unbreakable as aspirations grew. ambition blossoming into poise without a clue. there is no compromise. driving through the night, no destination but we're moving on and on and on and on. return to emptiness. return anguish too. although we've been away we're coming back to you. now vacancy is all that we know. we tried to take our chances. complacency with nowhere to go. we've taken too much damage. half those stars you see at night. burned out a million years ago, and they're the ones i've wished on. yeah. we made plans to be invincible. there is no compromise. now vacancy is all that we know. we tried to take our chances. complacency with nowhere to go. we've taken too much damage
11.

about

Beneath the shade of palm trees and wrapped in the heat and humidity of a St. Augustine afternoon, the undeniably infectious and highly relatable Florida-based punk outfit KID YOU NOT. Upbeat, emotional, and packed with raw energy, the band incorporates the perfect blend of melancholic and inspiring melodies made for basements and stages alike. Combining new school and old school influences (ranging from Iron Chic, Latterman and Red City Radio to 90’s punk rock heroes Hot Water Music, Jawbreaker and Millencolin) with a modern day sensibility, the ten tracks found on the band's third full-length "Thanks, I Hate It" never let up with their wrath of aggressive vocals, melodic harmonies, pounding drums and infectious choruses. Bigger and more impassioned than ever before, "Thanks, I Hate It" reveals the band firing on all cylinders. Striking hard with conviction and relevance, the new album is another giant step forward for Kid You Not in living their lives to the fullest with purity, purpose and a palpable DIY spirit.

Sung from the gut and straight from the heart, you'll find these new songs ring true to familiar feelings of depression, loss and uncertainty that 2020 has imposed upon our mental well-being...reminding us that we are not alone. "The songs on this album resonate with what we believe a lot of people have felt this year in regards to personal struggles with mental health. 2020 has been a roller coaster of seemingly endless despair which has weighed heavy on a lot of us and has certainly taken a mental toll,” says bassist Justin Pritchard.

Kid You Not is Patrick Drury (guitar, lead vocals), Justin Pritchard (bass, backing vocals), Ben Bennett (guitar, backing vocals) and Nick Shoaf (drums). All songs were written, produced, recorded, engineered and mastered by Kid You Not at Golden God Recording Studio. The first single "Fantastic Drugs And How To Take Them" will be released on Sep 29 in connection with a new video for the single. Sep 29 will also mark the start of pre-orders for the new full-length. The album will be released worldwide on October 30 digitally via Deep Elm and on vinyl via Bypolar Records. Album art by Dismay Designs. Band photo by Christian Denmark. The band's discography includes full-lengths "Home Again" (2018) and "Never A Dull Movement" (2017) on Deep Elm Records as well as two self-released 2016 EPs titled "Nothing Was Beautiful And Everything Hurt" and "Almost Home." Kid You Not hails from America's oldest city and thriving gator haven, St. Augustine, Florida.

Recommended For Fans of: Latterman, Hot Water Music, Red City Radio, Iron Chic, Spraynard, the Descendents

Genre: Melodic Punk, Emo Punk

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released October 30, 2020

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With over 260 releases in its catalog, fiercely independent Deep Elm Records continues to build a better label - one that operates for glory, not gold. Deep Elm is about bands and fans coming together as one and experiencing music's awesome ability to inspire, comfort and console. We're not just making music together, we're making history. Deep Elm: Never. Not. Awesome. ... more

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